


Untitled (for now)

by riverwriteskinda



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adorable, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, How Do I Tag, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24894901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverwriteskinda/pseuds/riverwriteskinda
Summary: Young AU - in which Merlin visits his uncle, Gaius, the court physician, every summer. During one such visit, he meets the prince of Camelot and they instantly connect.Suddenly, going back home to Ealdor gets harder and harder... until one day he doesn't.
Relationships: Gwen & Merlin & Morgana & Arthur Pendragon, Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Morgana (Merlin)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	1. The shell of a great man

The king's loud and determined steps echoed in the empty corridor, muffling the sounds of Arthur’s rigged breathing. The boy was pointlessly trying to keep up with his father, dragging his feet along the cold pavement, but to no use. He was constantly falling back, even though he was practically running after him in order to maintain his pace. 

Arthur was out of breath, exhausted from the lack of sleep, courtesy of his relentless nightmares, and from having to stroll around the castle at least twice this morning. His eyes were heavy lidded, but he was desperate to spend as much time as possible with Uther, no matter what it took.

He had barely seen his father this past week and he missed him, especially with the anniversary of his mother's death coming up, a time when Arthur needed him the most and Uther seemed to try his hardest to avoid him.

The crown felt heavier on the king’s head during this time each year, the memory of the lost love tormenting his thoughts and soul acutely. Looking at the mini version of his wife, gazing into those blue eyes, eyes which resembled hers so strongly… wasn’t _easy_. Especially since their son was also the reason for her departure. He knew it wasn’t fair to turn on Arthur, to blame him, but the bitterness infesting his old heart couldn’t be stopped, it had long spread and took over it.

“I only agreed to you accompanying me purely because you kept insisting, son.” He almost spat the last word out of his mouth, like he _dreaded_ it. Arthur was beginning to think he did. “I do hope you're aware I don’t have any time to spare.” He glanced coldly over his shoulder, watching Arthur struggling to keep up. "And you're slowing me down."

They both knew he wasn’t, actually, slowing him down. Uther didn’t skip a beat along the way and Arthur followed, no matter how heavy his feet felt. Quite the contrary, he seemed to have quickened his steps more than usual, pulling at Arthur’s limits. “I haven’t–“

Uther stared at his son for a moment, his expression impenetrable. Slowly, a frown started to spread above his narrowed eyes, causing the boy to trip over his own feet. The man simply ignored him and pushed open the doors to his physician's chambers, without giving a second look in Arthur's direction. 

"Gaius, have you found anything?" Uther asked, moving towards the place where Sir Killian's unconscious body was sprawled across the table. He stopped, seeing a young boy, probably close in age with Arthur, pressing a wet towel to the knight's forehead. He rose from his seat and bowed awkwardly, the fascination in his eyes _almost_ touching. Uther's eyebrows furrowed, confused at the sight of Gaius' new apprentice. 

"Your Majesty!" The older man stormed into the room, alarmed by the sudden appearance. He hated when the king did that: bursting into the room unannounced, unaware of the number of compromising positions he could find his subjects in. "You shouldn't have bothered, coming all the way here..." A shadow of annoyance slightly present in his voice, but no enough for Uther to catch on.

"No worries, I couldn't sleep properly anyway. Between Sir Killian's state, the other three deaths and the council desperately asking for my official statement..." The man rubbed his eyes, letting out a tired sigh and allowing his emotionless facade to slip for a second, before putting it back on. "Who's this?" 

"Hunith's son, my Lord. He's visiting." Gaius replied, ruffling the boy's hair. 

Uther stared at him for a short moment, scrutinizing his black, messy hair and slightly oversized ears, which were sticking out of his head. There was _something_ about him, _something_ in his pure, wide smile and innocent eyes that captured the king's attention. "Right. So, have you found anything?" 

"I'm afraid not, Sire, nothing at a physical level. I do suspect, though, this event was the product of no other than powerful..." Gaius stopped, noticing the prince standing in the door frame. He locked eyes with Uther, who nodded hesitantly, motioning for the older man to continue. "... _magic_." 

The king's eyes travelled to Merlin, _unintentionally_ , as the physician pronounced the last word. The boy looked down at his feet, focusing on a tiny object in his hand, which resembled the silhouette of a horse.

"I've... expected that myself." Uther replied, snapping out of his trance and glancing over his shoulder at his son, who was clenching his belt's sigil, in an attempt to control his fingers from trembling. "Anything you can do to save him, Gaius?"

"I'll do my best." 

"I'm certain you will." He said, the beginning of a faint smile appearing at the corners of his mouth as he was patting the physician on the back. It didn't last long. "I can rest assured that this information will not leave these chambers for now, _correct_?" His eyes went back to the young apprentice, before travelling to his own son. Both boys nodded mindlessly. "All right, then. Come on, Arthur." 

Only that the prince did not move. He remained in the door frame for a few more seconds, staring at the unknown person standing near Gaius, his feet stuck in place. He felt a rather confusing fascination towards the boy, one he’s never experienced before. It wasn’t anything particular about his looks or his clothes, but his presence, his smile, something was different about him. Arthur could’ve sworn he’s never seen him before, yet he seemed so incredibly familiar, so… _right_.

Merlin looked up and met his gaze, a soft smile tattooed on his face. Something about the look in his eyes told Arthur he felt the same. The young apprentice sent a tiny wave in the prince's direction, just as Uther called out his name. " _Arthur, come_!" 

"Don't even think about it." Gaius warned him, after Arthur exited the room in a hurry. 

"Think about what?" The boy bounced back, a failed attempt at pretending he had no idea what his uncle meant. He knew he could never get close to Arthur, befriend him, not if he wanted to keep his head. 

“It’s dangerous. You know what he does to your kind." His uncle’s worried expression made Merlin's stomach hurl. "Well, not _Arthur_ particularly. The boy's got a good heart and one day he’ll make a great king, maybe even allow magic… but for now, you should be careful.” Gaius sighed, resting a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “You can't even fully control your powers yet."

"I know." He simply responded, glancing back at the place Arthur just occupied. From the moment he entered, Merlin had a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite understand. “What about Uther? Is he a great ruler?”

“He _was,_ yes, he was a great king, but _pain_ … pain changed him, it _hardened_ him. He wasn’t always like this, you know?” Gaius smiled, more to himself, reminiscing a better time. “After he lost Ygraine, well, he remained only a shell. The _shell_ of a great man.” 


	2. Fresh old scars

Arthur lost all his concentration and forgot to shield his upper left side, as a strange, triangular piece of wood landed at his feet. He didn't have the time to identify neither the object, nor the person who threw it, at least not before being fiercely pushed to the ground.

Laying on his back, gazing at the clear, blue sky, Arthur couldn’t help but feel thankful, for the first time in his life, for having to wear the full armor during training. He made a silent promise to himself to never complain about it again.

"Had you been in a proper combat right now, you've been dead!" Sir Rowan muttered, letting out an annoyed sigh and offering a hand to help the prince back to his feet. He was Arthur's sword fighting instructor and the closest thing he had to a friend in the castle, apart from his sister. 

"That's your lesson for today: If you lose your focus even for one _second_ out there, you die. Let's go over the moves one more time..." Only Arthur wasn’t paying attention to Sir Rowan's words anymore, busy picking up the curiously shaped object standing before his feet. He was about to turn around and ask the knight about his finding, when a familiar face entered his peripheral vision. 

The young prince would've recognized that dark, messy hair and piercing blue eyes anywhere, even though he had only seen them once. And briefly.

Now standing in front of him, catching his breath, was none other than the boy from the physician's chambers, whose name Arthur had yet to learn.

"I take this belongs to you?" Arthur asked, signaling to the object in his hands, still having no idea what it was.

"Yes." The boy replied, closing in the space between them. Seeing the frown that had spread on the prince's face, the young warlock grinned. "It's called a boomerang. It's supposed to return when you throw it, but it clearly never does. I think it might be broken–"

"Merlin!" Gwen shouted, worried about her friend’s sudden disappearance.

"So that's your name then!" Arthur quickly said, handing the boomerang over to its owner, the corners of his mouth twisted in a triumphant smile. "No one seemed to know it–"

"You _asked_ about me?" 

Arthur feared for a moment Merlin would've been creeped out by that, but the boy's smile meant quite the opposite. He was pleased, _proud_ even. "One or two people." 

_Or ten_.

"Merlin!" Gwen called out again.

"You should go back to your friend." The prince said after a long moment, a wave of sadness washing over him as he pronounced the words. He wished they didn’t have to part so soon.

Just like he'd read his mind, the younger boy asked: "Do you want to join us?" 

"If only I could." He sighed, tilting his head in Sir Rowan's direction. "I got to get back there." Seeing the way Merlin’s wide smile began to fade made Arthur’s stomach twist.

He desperately wanted to go and play with him, damned be training and royal attire, but he couldn’t, not so close to his mother’s… he just didn’t want to upset his father more than he already was.

"That's a pity. I really wanted to show you how this thing worked." 

Arthur huffed, breaking into an amused grin. "Another time?" 

"Another time." The warlock agreed, feeling his chest tighten. "Not that I have much. I'm going back to Ealdor soon.”

"You're leaving?" Arthur blurted out, a little bit louder than he intended. _No, no, that was all wrong._

Arthur had no actual explanation as to why the boy should be staying, but he just _knew_ he was supposed to remain in Camelot.

Merlin nodded sadly. "In less than a week." 

_Less than a week_. Arthur had less than a week to come up with one. 

/

Three days later, on the fourteenth anniversary of Queen Ygraine's passing, the kingdom mourned. 

Church bells all over the kingdom were tolling and people were hanging black flags on their windows as a sign of solidarity, of unity, of shared grief. Ygraine had been one of them.

The yearly ceremony took place, as usual, in the middle of the day. The knights were dressed in black, plain tunics, only etched with lace around the neckline, and topped with their usual crimson capes, the golden dragon shining bright under the unforgiving sun. It was the middle of summer and the weather contradicted the sorrowful atmosphere in the kingdom. 

Uther was the one leading the memorial parade, riding on horseback, followed closely by his son and daughter. All three of them were dressed in dark clothes and had a black ribbon pinned over their heart. Right behind them, the guards marched in a synchronized rhythm. 

The people had already paid their respects, few days previous to the anniversary, as seen by the hundreds of wreaths, garlands and candles resting near her grave. The late queen had been beloved by her people, and still was, so much that even the neighbouring kingdoms were lowering their flags in her memory. She fought for a better life, a more peaceful one, a life anyone would cherish. She promised a utopian future, but the flame burning inside her heart was put out too soon. Far too soon. 

After her premature passing, King Uther was left to gather the shattered pieces, both of himself and of his grieving kingdom. There were days were he would rather not get out of bed, but he did. He powered through the loss of his wife and stood before his people each and every day, hoping he was making Ygraine proud, but deep down knowing he wasn't.

/

"It's for Queen Ygraine." Gwen informed him, as they watched the knights return to the castle, after the ceremony was over. "Arthur's mother."

"Only Arthur's?" Merlin enquired, stepping away from the window and taking out two stools from under the table, offering one to the girl. His mind kept travelling back to the promise the prince made only a few days ago, but never kept. Merlin wasn’t blaming him, obviously, Arthur already had enough on his plate, but a part of himself still wished he would have remembered and made some time.

"Yes. Morgana resulted from Uther's second marriage, one he was forced into accepting, in order to restore Camelot's shaky state." Gwen followed him and sat down, a thankful smile plastered across her flushed face.

"How did she die? Queen Ygraine." Merlin's eyes were now fixed on the little horse figurine resting in his hands, the only thing he had from his late father. It was his most prized possession, one he had carried with him everywhere he went.

"During childbirth." Gaius intervened, his shoulders were hunched forward and he was wearing black clothes, even though he hadn't been a part of the memorial parade. "She wished to carry a child so deeply, to provide Camelot with an heir... And in the end she didn't even have enough time to hold her son in her arms once."

Gwen stretched out her hand and covered Gaius' palm with hers, grasping softly. The court physician smiled at her kind gesture and wiped the tears welling up in his eyes. "It was so unfair. For all three of them." 

Silence took over the room as Merlin processed the new found information. "So today is also..." the boy began, but the words remained trapped inside his throat. 

Gwen nodded sadly, understanding the conclusion he had reached. "Arthur's birthday, yes, but it's never celebrated. Not even acknowledged." 

This didn't sit well with Merlin. His birthday was the happiest day of the year, the one he was always expecting, always looking forward to. It never was about the gifts he’d receive, or the food his mother would struggle to afford for his anniversary, but the people around him. "Isn’t there anything we can do for him?” 

“Even if it was, I’m afraid you’re to leave for Ealdor in an hour and you haven’t even started packing.” Gaius said, patting his nephew on the back and motioning for him to go gather his scattered possessions. Knowing Merlin wouldn’t obey so easily, the physician then turned and whispered to the girl. “It’s a disaster in there.” 

Merlin narrowed his eyes and glared at the older man, before reassuring Gwen his room wasn’t a disaster. She giggled softly while listening to the boy, both completely aware he wasn’t exactly telling the full truth. “Well, it isn’t particularly… clean, but it’s not as bad as Gaius says.” After a few more protests, Merlin finally exited the kitchen, leaving Gaius and Gwen to share an amused look.


	3. The Pendragon Siblings

Gaius had been right about his room, it was a complete _disaster_. His clothes and shoes were scattered everywhere, on the ground, on stools, even laying in piles taller than the boy himself. Merlin hadn't been aware, until this day, of how incredibly many possessions he had, at least not before seeing them splattered around, taking up the entire room.

The mess he'd made would have kept him busy for an hour or more, if it hadn't been for his magic. He knew it was dangerous to use it here, but he had to. Merlin couldn't spend his last hour in Camelot stuffing socks and belts into his bag, he had one more thing to do. The boy grabbed the boomerang from his nightstand and stormed out of his room to find Arthur. 

He gave one last glance in Sir Killian's direction, feeling his chest tighten at the sight of the man. The knight was still sprawled over the table, unconscious, as he was four days ago, when they first brought him in. 

"We've done all we could, tried all there was to try." Gaius had told him the night before, but it wasn't true. There was one thing they haven't tried... a dangerous one, but Merlin would never be able to forgive himself if he had left just like that, without at least attempting to save Sir Killian's life. 

The young warlock placed his left hand over the knight's forehead and his right above his heart. He remembered the incantation he'd read about in one of Gaius' books and whispered the words in a low tone. "Contritum Leporem."

Merlin's eyes flushed golden, just as the boy was blasted backwards and hit the wall harshly, knocking him out.

/

"Are you alright?" Judging by the soft and wavering tone in Morgana's voice, Arthur had been zooming out again. Her eyes searched his throughly, a concerned expression riding high on her pale face. 

Morgana didn't wait for a response before throwing her hands around Arthur's neck, wanting to comfort him. With the memorial parade, the ceremony and Uther not even trying to mask the fact that he was full-on avoiding him, Morgana knew it hadn't been the most pleasant day for her brother. 

"I'm alright, I'm alright, sorry. I was just... Doesn't matter." He dismissed the rather disturbing thought he previously allowed to spread, much like a spider's web inside his mind, and buried his head in Morgana's shoulder. They stayed like this for a moment, just holding on to each other, pulling themselves together, it was what they did best. 

"Hey, you can let go now." Arthur stubbornly insisted, patting her arm reassuringly. "I'm fine. Really, Morgana, I'm fine." 

"I know you are." The girl whispered tenderly, nuzzling Arthur's hair, not wanting to let go just yet. 

Arthur scoffed in protest, but tightened his grip on her back, dragging her even closer. She knew him too well. "It's supposed to get easier, you know? But it never does." 

"I know." Morgana mumbled, resting her chin on his shoulder. "And father isn't exactly helping." 

To that, Arthur snorted. “ _isn't exactly helping_ ” was a massive understatement. "He's always making matters worse than they already are. Maybe not purposely, but-" 

"But he'll come around... he always does." Morgana interrupted him. "It's just hard for him to be- you remind him so much of her, that it's hard-" 

"And for me it isn't? You think for me it isn't hard?" Arthur snapped, breaking off the embrace and leaving his chair, walking past Morgana. "He blames _me_ for her death, even though I was just a baby... and he can't even _stand_ to look at me. I don't know, Morgana- What am I supposed to do? I didn't- I'm not- It’s _not_ my fault.” Arthur had channeled all the frustration, all the pain, all the suffering he’d been bottling up over the years and just let it out. Hearing himself say those words with so much conviction felt so incredibly good, so… relieving. It wasn’t his fault his mother died giving birth to him. 

After a few seconds, Arthur sighed and rubbed his face, a wave of guilt washing over him as he stared in Morgana's teary eyes. His sister has done nothing but be there for him and there he was, screaming at her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to react that way- God, I'm just like him..." 

Morgana shook her head quickly, wiping her cheeks before approaching her brother once more. "You're _nothing_ like him, Arthur, and never will be. You're better." 

  
* 

  
_Arthur felt his limbs trembling when he bent over to put the candle out. He inhaled deeply, preparing himself for the darkness that will soon wrap around his eyes and body. He could do this. He had to do this. He wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t, no._

_He was terrified._

_The only thing keeping Arthur going was the nasty memory of his father laughing in his face when he had told him about his fears. He remembered how humiliating that felt and how much he despised himself for being so weak, so foolish, so childish._

_In truth, he was only a child, a child from whom it was expected too much, too soon._

_The boy was convinced Uther would laugh again if he was to see Arthur in this state, shaking violently as he put out the only source of light in the room and making a run for the bed. As soon as he got in, Arthur hid behind the safety of the covers, burying his head in a pillow. There was nothing out there, nothing but darkness. Nothing. But if there really was nothing out there, –what was that?_

_A short, agonizing creak echoed from the hall. No, it hadn’t been from the hall, it was closer than that…_

_Arthur shut his eyes tight. He knew that sound because he was so used to hearing it whenever… whenever he entered his chambers... The door. It opened._

_No, no, no, it couldn’t be. There was nothing out there, nothing but darkness._

_“Arthur?” a soft whimper came through, shattering the silence._

_Bollocks. There was something out there. And it knew his name._

_“Wh– who's there?” Arthur whispered, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness and assess the room. The door, just as he expected, was open. Barely._

_Maybe it was the wind._

_Yes, the wind. Of course it was the wind. It was the only reasonable explanation._

_“Arthur?”_

_Well, at least now the boy was sure it wasn’t the wind. Usually, the wind wasn’t able to speak. And even if it was, it definitely wouldn’t sound just like his little sister._

_“Morgana?” He couldn’t make much out from the complete darkness in the room, but a soft sob confirmed his suspicions. “What happened? Are you alright?” Arthur stood up and followed the sound of her whimpers, until he reached her. He wrapped both hands around her trembling little body and held her without a word as to why she was there or why she was crying._

_“I’m… scared. There’s… a monster… under… my bed.” She told the boy, inbetween sobs._

_“A monster? There’s no such thin–“ Arthur began, repeating the words he’s been told over a hundred times by his father. However, he stopped shortly, frowning, before trying again. This time, with his own words. “Do you want me to go and make sure it’s not there anymore?”_

_Morgana’s eyes widened in fear. “No, don’t go, it’s dangerous!” She clung even tighter to Arthur, keeping him close._

_“I’ll take care of it, Morgana, I promise. The monster won’t bother you anymore.” He reassured her, lighting up the candle he had just put out._

_“Be– be careful.” She begged him, now sitting on the bed near the light._

_“I will.”_

_Arthur exited his chambers and strolled down the corridor, forgetting about his fear of darkness, ready to battle whatever creature he had to, for his sister._

  
* 

  
The prince chuckled, staring into those big, emerald eyes he knew so well. "You know, I'm supposed to be the one who comforts _you_ , protects _you_ , cheers _you_ up, not the other way around. After all, I’m your big brother.” 

"You've always been the strong one, Arthur. It's my turn now." Arthur wanted to contradict her. He’s never been the strong one, _she_ made him strong. “I’m the one who has to be here for you now, slay _your_ monsters, just like you did, when we were younger.” She intertwined their hands and rested her head on his shoulder. “I hope you’re well aware I’m always here for you.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

* 

  
_There was nothing in Morgana’s room, much to Arthur’s relief, but the boy couldn’t tell her that. Instead, Arthur told his little sister an intricate story about how he slayed the monster under her bed, while tucking her in for the night._

_“Can you stay?” She asked, as Arthur was preparing to return to his chambers._

_“But the monster isn’t here anymore. I told you, I defeated it.” Arthur replied, a proud grin forming on his face aglow with the candle light._

_Morgana pouted, sitting up in her bed. “I know, but maybe there’ll be others… I don’t want to be alone.”_

_“You’re never alone, Morgana, I’m always here for you.” She moved to make more space for Arthur, her smile emanating more light than the candle did._

_“I know.”_

/ 

"Prince Arthur, Princess Morgana, I apologize for disturbing you, but I thought you'd be pleased to hear Sir Killian has woken up." Gaius announced, standing in the door frame. 

"That's excellent news! Thank you, Gaius." Arthur said, jumping from his chair and hurrying to the door. 

Gaius stretched out a hand, stopping him from advancing. "He's in a private audience with the king at the moment, you–"

"Is something wrong?" Morgana intervened, noticing the worry in the physician's eyes.

Gaius pondered about what to say for a split second, before deciding on "There might be." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Also, what do you think happened to Merlin? Did something go wrong?


End file.
